


loyalty.love

by tytracki



Series: scenarios [9]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Drama, Drug Dealing, F/M, Florists, Gang Violence, Gangs, Greek Mythology References, Mentions of Death, Persephone/Hades AU, Violence, modern greek au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tytracki/pseuds/tytracki
Summary: the starting point, the moment it all changes, is very easy to remember. as is the moment it all goes wrong.





	loyalty.love

**Author's Note:**

> you think there is more dark in you than there are bones.  
> what is a monster?  
> what is a lover?  
> what is the name that sounds so sweet on your lips in the dying of the night?  
> love we’ve only the light to fear.  
> darkness always follows.
> 
> darkness and bones - k.j.c

the starting point, the moment it all changes, is very easy to remember. as is the moment it all goes wrong.

it’s a slow day, like tuesday mornings always are. you are fixing arrangements for the display while a calm song plays in the background, so immersed in it that you don’t notice the big black car that parks right outside the small flower shop. you don’t notice the man getting out of it until the little bell in the door alerts you of his presence.

a shiver runs down your spine from the sudden sound but in no moment, like it’s automatic for you, you’re turning around to greet them. “good morning, how may i help you?” it’s sweet and welcoming like an employee of a flower shop should be.

he looks out of place, with the all black outfit and not a trace of a smile on his lips. “hello.” he says, eyes scanning the room but never meeting yours. “i have an event coming up and would like some flower arrangements. “

the event in question turns out to be a funeral, and it’s not unusual, not at all. but the man, that you would much later find out was named taeyong, made it seem like it was. he doesn’t request specific flowers, says he trusts you to pick the most adequate ones for the situation. you give him the prices and he gives you the date and address, nothing else and nothing less.

you didn’t know then that this is where it would all begin, of course. but you think that maybe your intuition did, that something very deep inside of you was screaming to be careful. you didn’t listen to it, of course.

✦

it’s june so the rain is no surprise but still you wish your coat was warmer from the cold that takes you even in the inside of your car. it’s a perfect day for a funeral, you think, if such as thing exists.

the address they give you is far out of the city, so far that you get lost twice before finally arriving at the huge mansion. the first thing you notice is the garden full of green but no other colors, it’s almost as if it adapted for the funeral with only dark red roses in the front yard. the second thing you notice is the cars parked outside, all black and looking expensive. you park your small car a bit far from the others and as soon as you get out two man dressed in all black appear asking for your name and id.

when it’s clear to them who you are and what you are doing there they let you inside, helping you with the various flowers arrangements you brought to decorate the funeral. in your mind you’re walking inside the house of one of the richest families in japan, with the level of security they have and how huge this house is. you wonder what piece of the family has died.

they take you to a kitchen where numbers of employees walk in and out bringing trays of food and empty glasses. you place your flowers on an empty space and work in peace on making the last details perfect. 

you work for about 20 minutes when a man walks inside the kitchen, in and all black suit and comes into your direction. he examines the flower for what feels like hours in an uncomfortable silence before he finally speaks.

“what kind of flower are these?” he asks, observing them with care in his eyes. he doesn’t look a year over twenty but there is a harshness in his features that make him look like someone your mother would tell you to stay away from. 

“they are lilies” you reply, avoiding eye contact. “they represent the restored innocence of the soul of the departed. i thought it would be fitting to the event.”

he just hums, making you uncertain to if you should continue the conversation or if he just came here seeking for silence. “are you close to the person?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“yes. very close you could say…“ is what he replies with and if there’s hurt in his voice you don’t notice.

“oh, i’m really sorry for your loss…” he has stopped analyzing the flowers and is now looking at you, the look in his unchanging. “you must be devastated.”

“it’s okay.” he says, voice flat and you don’t know what to take from it. you notice just now that the rain has stopped. “death is not something that phases me anymore.”

his word make you taken back, and you finally look at him to see if there’s anything in his face that indicates he’s joking. nothing. “i think it’s natural for humans to fear death, since it’s the only thing that’s final.” he raises an eyebrow at your words, as if he’s intricate “if we don’t then maybe it means our humanity is dying.”

“are you implying that i’m no longer human?” his voice is so harsh that your eyes widen and you start apologizing, only stopping when you hear his laugh, deep and like honey. it’s odd to see a man that looks like him laugh.

“i’m only joking, please don’t take me seriously.” you roll your eyes. turning to your flowers again and making the last changes so they look perfect. he takes that as a clue to leave and with one more word directed to you he’s walking away from the kitchen.

✦

june is almost over, the days passing in a blur of sameness and you’re getting tired of the rain by now. no one seems to want flowers in this weather and the shop barely sees more than three customers a day. you’re boringly swiping through your instagram feed, watching your fifth dog video of the day, when the black car parks outside the shop. the same one from that last time, almost a month ago. a man walks out, wearing all black again, but it’s not the same one as last time. still, he looks familiar and it’s only when he walks inside the store and gives you a tiny smile that you remember.

“good afternoon, how may i help you?” you say, voice filled with sweetness out of habit. it only makes him smile more.

“hello.” is all he says for a while and he moves around the small store with ease, but looking completely out of place. he’s wearing a coat and a turtleneck that makes him look fancy and rich, like someone who shouldn’t be shopping in a neighbor shop “what is this season’s flower?”

the question takes you by surprise, taking you a few moments to finally get your thoughts together and reply. “the hydrangea. it’s very popular around this time of the year.”

“i see… and what is the meaning of it?” he raises one eyebrow and continues to smile at you. the whole interaction is setting a chill down your spine, like you can’t understand why it’s happening.

“according to a legend it’s associated with heartfelt emotions, gratitude and it’s often used as an apology.” you say naturally, like it’s a normal thing for a person to know so well.

he seems surprised by the knowledge. “i’ll take a bouquet of it then.” it’s an odd request, like every interaction with this man seems to be. you start gathering the flowers in your arms, all blue, and move them to the balcony in a way you’re too familiar with. he stays quiet watching as you arrange it with as much detail and care as possible.

“you’re very good at this.” he compliments, the smiling forming on your face impossible to hide.

“oh, thank you.” you reply bashfully “i have been around flowers from a young age, since my mother was a florist. when she passed away she left the store for me to care for.”

it’s probably too much information to share with a complete stranger, someone you don’t even know the name, but he listens to you like he cares. “i’m very sorry for your loss.” he says “but it’s very good that she passed forward such a good talent.”

“yes, i agree.” you finish up the bouquet, tying it up at the bottom with a pretty lace. talking about your mother always made you feel weird. it happened so sudden that you were never sure on how to really feel and because of that you hated discussing the matter. “but what about you? what do you work with?”

he laughs like it’s a funny subject. “you could say i work with a family business too.” you just hum, not pressing further on the subject and walk to the register, him following right behind you and taking out a wallet from the pocket inside his coat. “how much do i own you?”

“the total is $14.” the payment goes normally but as you hand the flowers to him he just shakes his head, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

“i bought them for you.” the look on your face must be hilarious, you are not even sure what to say, even less on how to react. who in their right mind buys a bouquet for a florist. “as an apology for the way i behaved at the funeral, i thought that i may have come out a bit rude.”

“that was days ago, oh my god.” is this man crazy? that’s the only possible thought that runs through your mind. “you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“still, i needed an excuse to see you again, didn’t i?” your cheeks turn an impossible shade of pink, the bouquet still in your arms probably making you look very silly. “i could also say sorry over dinner if you’d like that.” 

 

he is definitely crazy. who meets someone on a funeral, has something that can barely be considered a conversation and then a month later comes to their workplace to ask them out. “i’m sorry, what? i don’t even know your name.”

“i’m yuta.” he says, extending his hand for you to take. “it’s nice to meet you, ____”

you shake his hand, and for a moment you wonder how he knows your name if you didn’t even say anything. but then you remember your name tag and feel a little dumb for it. he just smiles at you and takes a little longer than normal to drop your hand. “so, about that date?”

✦

yuta is surprisingly gentle and flirty, nothing like you had imagined and expected. he takes you to a restaurant that’s too fancy and expensive for you, the food coming in small portions and the wine he orders so sweet that before you notice you have had four glasses of it. you would feel out of place if yuta hadn’t made sure that you felt comfortable with the many compliments he showers you with.

after the date he texts you asking when it would be okay to take you on another and you indulge him on not just one but five more dates.

it’s not hard to fall. not when he treats you with such care, not when he sends you flowers even though you’re surrounded by them everyday. not when he kisses you like he’s trying to say something with the press of his lips to yours.

it’s natural how it happens, you go from dates to late night calls and late nights drives, and hand holding while walking around the street. he nevers asks and you never question it, just let it happen.

it’s so easy to fall that you let yourself, freely. and he catches you.

✦

november comes with the cold weather of autumn. business is slightly more busy due to end of the year celebrations and more often than never you find yourself tired and worn out after a full week. this week only you had to make arrangements for two big events and on top of that make bouquets for regular customers.

yuta’s existence seem to be surrounding you. he doesn’t take you on as many dates as before, claiming that business is busy, but every chance he gets he stays the night at your apartment and leaves so many traces of himself on it that there’s not a time of your day that you don’t think of him. you wonder if it’s healthy to miss someone’s presence so much when you have to sleep alone. without his warmth you think that you weren’t made to endure the coldest weathers without him.

you didn’t get to see him at all this week, your heart aching for his smell when you finally get home on friday after a tiring day of roses and dandelions. to soothe it you decide to have a nice night for yourself, taking a nice bath and ordering food to watch in front of the tv while you drink wine.

you are comfortable on the couch, blanket almost swallowing you, when it happens.

you never watched the news, because of time and disinterest, but what was happening in the country was too huge to not know. another drug war, years since the last one and this time much more violent as the gangs killed each other for territory and money. you watch it all on the tv with anxiety running through your veins and maybe you had been too naive, not paying enough attention because the moment the tv flashes and yuta’s face is on it the last thing that goes through your mind is surprise. it made sense, of course. the scars and the multiple tattoos he kept hidden. the gun you know he carries on his car but never tells you about.

your mind goes blank for a couple of second. a gang leader. you should’ve known by the way he carried himself that yuta was not a regular man. you feel on the verge a panic attack but it never comes. you should be afraid of him, leave and never look back but there’s not a single molecule of your body that wants to do that. it’s the cliche of cliches. falling in love with the bad guy, the type of man your mother warned you about, the one you should keep your distance from, the one would ruin your life with a snap of his finger. you wonder how many men he has killed in his lifetime. wonder if he would kill for you.

your phone rings and it gets you out of your daze. it’s him, of course it is. this is the first time the news show his face without discretion and it’s obvious to him that you know by now, it’s obvious that you’re going to leave and never talk to him again. he wonders how he managed to keep it as a secret for so long. “______…” his voice sounds almost sad, regretful “i’m so sorry.”

you grip the phone in your hand, crying without even noticing. “can you come over? please.” it’s too much suddenly, your heart feels like it’s going to rip your chest in half. the thoughts of yuta being dangerous wipe off your mind, being replaced with the ones of him being in danger. images of him being hurt, gun pressed to his forehead flash behind your eyes and you’re weeping like mad on the phone. “please, yuta. i need you to come here, i need to see you.”

when he arrives, 2 hours later, you have a headache from how much you cried. your eyes red and puffy and it breaks his heart to see you like this. he holds you and tells you everything will be okay for what feels like ages and you want to tell him to stop lying, there’s a fresh scar on his face that proves to you there’s no way it will be okay.

“no one is going to hurt you, baby. i promise you.” he says pressing thousands of little kisses across your face. “i will kill every man that dares threaten you.”

when you fall asleep yuta watches you with grief in his eyes. if he could he would undo it all, go back in time and make sure you never got involved in any of it. it would hurt too much but he knows pain better than anyone else.

✦

nothing and everything changes. yuta is the same as always, sweet and caring boyfriend who comes to your house at midnight with chocolate and cuddles you. in the news the reporters paint him as a man that lives for blood and will kill anyone that dares threaten his empire. in your eyes, he is both.

the violent war portrayed on the television is not half as bad when seen from inside, yoongi’s gang works in quiet ways, sending his men to yuta’s areas to cause havoc. if yuta is worried he doesn’t let it show but he looks more tired these days, his face somewhat harsher and when he fucks you it’s like he’s trying to let something out, trying to regain control where he can. you don’t complain.

it’s saturday night and where you would prefer to stay at home and have a nice night in, yuta is antsy and agitated. it’s the first time, of many that were to come, that you go to the underworld. you had heard about it before, the biggest and most popular club in tokyo where only the richest and most influential people went for drugs, for fun or both. what you never knew was that yuta owned it.

“i own half of tokyo, lover.” is what he tells you when you ask about it, giving you his cocky smile and you swear you couldn’t fall more for this man.

the lights blind you for a second the moment you walk inside of the club, hand in hand with yuta but he seems unfazed by it. there’s a loud beat playing, something electronic with some rap and some people dance to it, bodies mixing and grinding together, while others stay secluded to the private booths, whispering secrets in each others ears. the decoration is nice, all black with some gold details and there’s lights everywhere.

yuta squeezes your hand softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he walks deeper into the club, greeting some people on the way. your black dress flows a little as you walk.

“the royal couple!” taeyong exclaims when he sees the both of you arrive at the highest booth of the club. he was the only of yuta’s men that dared to talk directly to you, being his right hand. yuta had told you taeyong was like a brother to him, the both of them growing up together and becoming attached to the hip. he also said that taeyong was his best snipper, having such a way around a gun that it was like a dance to him.

you watch with a smile on your face as yuta hugs taeyong, whispering something in his ear that makes the other man laugh loudly. he moves to the rest of his men, taeil, johnny and jaehyun all stand in a circle, looking powerful in their suits.

“how do you like the underworld?” taeyong asks, coming closer to you. his hair is almost white blonde now, a high contrast to the red he had the last time he saw you, and he wears an opened shirt that gives you a glimpse to his chest tattoo, the same koi fish yuta has.

“it’s very nice.” you say, playing with the hem of your dress. after all these months you still feel a little out of place in yuta’s reality “i’m not much of a club person but this is not as overwhelming as the other ones i have attended.”

“oh, of course. we keep things classy in here.” he says, a smirk on his face as he turns a bit towards the table in the middle of the booth and grabs a glass of something that has a pretty drink color to it and red seeds on the bottom. “here. you should have something to drink.”

you take the glass from him, raising one eyebrow. “what’s in this?” you ask.

“champagne with pomegranate.” he takes a sip from his own glass “the underworld’s speciality.”

you mimic him, taking a small sip but the flavor is so pleasant that in no time you’re the downing the whole glass.

when yuta comes back to your side you’re slightly tipsy and feeling clingy, keeping him close to your side and touching more than necessary. he looks amused by it all and pleases you by moving to press his lips against yours, in a sweet manner and you are sure he can taste the pomegranate in your lips.

you don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol but you feel on the clouds moving his lips in time with his, his big hands gripping at your waist to keep you as close as possible. it’s like the whole world has dissipated and there’s only the two of you. when you break the kiss he looks at you with adoration in his eyes and you can’t hide the smile that takes your lips. you sway your hips playfully in time with the music that’s playing, dancing with yuta and he laughs at you. “you’re so silly.” he says, pressing one more kiss to your lips, a smile on it.

around 2am, when you’re comfortable in one of the seats on the booth with yuta’s warmth surrounding you and laughter bubbling on your chest, taeyong whispers something in his ear that changes the entire atmosphere. yuta curses lowly under his breath, getting up in one swift movement and storming outside of the booth telling you he’s going to be right back.

you’re a little stubborn so you follow him, right behind taeyong and taeil coming right after. “what are you doing here, kim?” you hear yuta’s voice before you see him, coming face to face with a blonde man that you have never seen before.

“i just came to have a good time, my dear.” the boy says wickedly, a smile on his face and you know already that he’s going to get on yuta’s nerve. “and to finally see the princess you hide so well.”

 

yuta surges forward so fast that in no time he has the man in his grip, wicked smile still on his face. “what did you fucking say?” his voice is filled with poison.

the man looks straight into your eyes, smirking before he’s facing yuta again. “i said i came to see your pretty little whore.” he says and the moment he finishes the last word yuta’s fist is coming in contact with his face. there’s a number of gasps, and oohs, one coming from your own mouth as you watch yuta punch the blonde multiple times.

your heart beats erratically on your chest, watching as the two men fight. when the man’s hand come in contact with yuta’s faces you let out a cry, body instinctively moving forward before taeyong grabs you. you only relax in his grip when you see the smile on yuta’s bloody lips as he moves forward, punching the other like a mad man. you feel like you’re going a little mad too as you smile at the way yuta is moving, it fills your chest with something that’s very close to excitement. when he falls to the floor, yuta finishes with a last kick to his ribs. “tell min that i’m fucking sick of his acts. if i have to see any of you one more time i’m going to burn everything he owns to the ground.” he says, turning to look at his men and nodding his head to the back door. “take him outside.”

“let’s go, baby.” he says, grabbing your hand and taking you to the back exit of the club, where his car is parked. his mouth still has a bit of blood on it.

when you’re inside of the car he wastes no time in driving away at full speed, music playing loudly. there’s an edge to him that sets on the whole atmosphere, he looks wild and powerful speeding so much that you feel like you’re about to take flight. you don’t tell him to stop, of course not. you bask in the thrill of it, melt against your seat when he moves his hands to grip your exposed thigh, smiling softly your way. he looks untouchable, like there’s nothing in this world that can touch him, and it makes you feel just as powerful.

✦  
mornings where you wake up yuta’s body pressed against your are sacred. you always wake up before him, with the small rays of sun invading your room and the warmth of his body making you feel safe.

like this, he looks young and peaceful, hair messy and mouth slightly open as he snores quietly. your heart swoons with adoration and affection. with a hand moving slowly as if to not disturb his sleep, you brush the scar on his cheek with your thumb, feeling the soft skin as his eyelashes flutter from the touch. he’s a light sleeper.

“morning.” he mumbles, eyes barely open yet and you giggle, moving the hand on his cheek to brush his hair out of his face.

“good morning, baby.” you reply and he smiles lazily, arm bringing you impossibly closer to his body.

“i like when you call me that.” he hums when you let your arms fall to his chest, face so close to him that it’s easy when you finally press your lips together in a lazy kiss. it’s nice and comfortable with the warmth of the sun and the birds chirping outside.

yuta is usually desperate when it comes to this. like he has been craving you for his whole life and can never get enough. he fucks you hard, spilling filthy words and bruising you in ways that you don’t mind at all. he likes having control and making you beg while he calls you his over and over again. now, when he kisses you with such gentleness it’s nothing like that.

there’s still clear intentions when his hand move to your thigh, playfully hiking your babydoll until he has his hand on your ass, massaging it softly like he doesn’t want nothing out of it. you whine against the kiss.

he breaks the kiss with a last peck and a kiss to your nose before he has his lips on your neck instead, biting marks and sucking on it. you let him have his fun, feeling the warmth on the bottom of your belly grow. even more when he presses himself so close to you that you can feel his arousal against the satin of your sleepwear. “mhm, yuta…” you say, voice low as you move a hand to his hair, soft against your fingers. “want you to fuck me.”

his lips detach from your neck, now all pink from his bites, and he looks up at you with glossy eyes and swollen lips. a sinful look. “you’re so needy, baby. i fucked you yesterday.” he says, a playful smile on his lips and you see flashes of last night play before your eyes. his hands gripping your hips as he fucked you harshly from behind, the filthiest things spilling out of his mouth. a small moan falls from your mouth as your remember when his hands came around your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you come. “don’t worry, princess. i always give you what you want, don’t i?”

and then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time with his tongue dancing with yours in sensual motions. one of his hands stay on your cheek as the other wanders underneath your babydoll, finding your breasts and massaging one of them until you are whimpering against his mouth. it’s a game he likes to play, getting you worked up that by the time he’s inside of you, you’re already losing your mind. he pinches one of your nipples hard and you’re arching your waist, trying to get a little bit of friction where you want it the most.

“tsk, you’re so desperate, angel.” he says teasingly but still gives you exactly what you want, hand moving down and down until he’s touching you through your thin panties, wetness soaking it. “and you get wet quick like a virgin.”

your cheeks heat up from his words, it’s embarrassing and he knows it, the sound of his laugh almost low enough that you don’t hear it. he removes the panties and then your babydoll, throwing them to the side along with the bed sheets. the look of adoration in his eyes when you’re bare for him like this is imprinted in your mind forever.

the kisses he presses against your belly make you giggle, until he’s face to face to your heat and it turns to a moan that sounds too much like a plea. he listens to it and parts your folds, breath against it making you shiver. a kiss and then he’s eating you out like it’s his favorite thing to do in the world. he gives you kittenish licks before he’s pressing his tongue flat against your entrance and licking it up in a way that makes your whole body arch from the bad, his name falling from your lip.

he doesn’t make you cum like this, only teases enough that when he finally, finally, enters you you’re so wet and ready that his eyes roll to the back of his head from it. the most powerful man in the country but the moment he’s inside of you is like he becomes putty, will do anything you ask him to. “you’re so perfect, baby.” he whispers against your ear, hips moving in a slow pace and your nails drawing crescents on his back. “you feel so good, it’s like you were made for me. only mine.”

you nod, urging him in to move faster but he doesn’t. continues to move with patience, his dick thrusting into you so deep that you see stars each time it brushes against the spot you love so much. when you’re close to come he brings his hand down and he rubs your clit until you’re clenching around him and moaning desperately. it’s blissful when you finally come, whole body shaking and he kisses your noises away.

his thrusts become just a bit faster after, and he whimpers and groans close to your ear. he comes when you tell him to make you his, to come inside of you and he moans so lowly you wish you could have recorded the sound.

afterwards, when you’re both clean in bed, you trace the lines of the tattoos on his chest. like this, when it’s peaceful and you’re safe, yuta feels at home. feels like it would be okay to die if it was in your arms.

✦

the club is filled to the brim with people, the shiny lights illuminating where it should and leaving the places that need to be hidden alone. yuta’s eyes roam around the area, looking for possible threats and things that look out of place. he finds nothing but still feels on edge, being on an area that wasn’t his always did a good job of setting his nerves on edge. he looks at his men, just in time to see taeyong whispering something on jaehyun’s ears and when he nods their way they separate and go to strategical places among the crowds of people, only taeil and yukhei following him now.

his gun feels heavy, like a sign that he’ll have to use it soon but he leaves it be. the reason why he’s here stands in a table far from the people and the lights. min yoongi sits there, in the middle of the booth with his men surrounding him. he looks powerful, yuta will give him that, but it’s only an illusion. he prides himself in knowing min is nothing but a facade, that all his weakness are on yuta’s sleeve to use as he please. he prides himself in knowing that while min has power, yuta is still the owner of everything he touches.

“min.” he says, with a nod of his head towards the blonde as he opens one button of his suit to sit down on the opposite side of the booth. yoongi looks the same he did the last time yuta saw him, blonde hair falling in his eyes in an attempt to cover the nasty scar that adorned his face and the single silver tooth in his mouth that made his smile even more bizarre.

the fucker has the nerve to smile and greet him in an excited voice. “oh, nakamoto! my old friend, how have you been?” he raises his glass of whisky to him, signalling for one of his men to pour him a glass.

he takes it, raising one eyebrow. “let’s cut the bullshit, alright?” yuta says, eyes examining yoongi’s expression. “i’m sure you didn’t get me to come all the way over this hell hole to talk about life.”

the other man laughs, deep and drunkish like yuta said something extremely funny. it pisses him off. “of course not. i invited you over to my hell hole to talk about something much more fun, i’m sure you’ll be much interested in it.”

when yuta was only fifteen his father’s gang got involved in the biggest drug war of the decade. he already knew all about the world but the only part he took in it was getting into fights with min yoongi after school while students gathered around and made bets on who would win. in the end, his father buried the rival gang to the ground, becoming the royalty of japan’s crime scene. in a fun coincidence, yoongi was the rival’s son and swore that someday he would kill yuta with his own hands.

the day never came and his attempts never succeed. yuta’s empire kept growing, yoongi falling right behind with a lust to put a bullet right in the middle of his forehead.

“there’s another war coming, nakamoto.” is what he says after taking a long sip of whiskey. “what will you do about it?”

“when will you learn that your ambition will be the death of you, min?” yuta replies laughing “aren’t you tired of having your man killed? there’s no need for another war, i have given you more than plenty territory to sell.”

yoongi’s hand move to the top of the desk, his fingers beating against it in what indicates anxiety but his smirk is still unfazed. he looks exactly like the sick sadist he is. “perhaps i have the upper hand this time.” he says “a trick on my sleeve that you won’t see coming.”

yuta raises one eyebrow, patience running thin and he decides to down the rest of the liquor and stand up. “my time is precious, min. when you have serious matters to discuss we can talk.”

he thinks he won’t say anything back but in the far distance he hears something that makes his heart rush just a bit more than normal. “people like us can’t love, my dear yuta. everything we touch is bound to death.”

his blood boils and he wants to come back to the table and punch min yoongi until he’s dead. “they’re going to come for her.” taeyong says, stating the obvious. it only pisses yuta more.

“i won’t let them touch a finger on her.” he replies, tapping his fingers in an erratically motion on his leg.

“i know, boss. but still, they will try to.”

“and i won’t let them.” are the final words. the rest of the drive is dead silent.

✦

the thing about power is that when you start losing it, even by just a bit, it feels like everything will go downhill. yuta sits on his table, fingers tapping at the dark wood. the sky outside is an ugly shade of grey, the clouds warning of the chaos that is coming. he feels tired, hasn’t slept well in weeks because all he sees when he closes his eyes is sicheng bleeding on the floor, like his life was worth nothing more than a few bags of cocaine.

wars like this, they happen in mysterious ways. it’s almost quiet. man are never satisfied with power until they have all of it, yuta had been there before. he would kill any man that came in front of what he wanted. but now, that he had it all ambition came chasing him and it wanted his blood.

“tell me what happened.” it’s the first word he says after minutes of dead silence. taeyong, who’s sitting in the seat in front of him looks at jaehyun on the other side of the room and then he starts talking.

there had been an attempt to rob one of yuta’s warehouses, the one he kept most of his stock. an attempt that costed him 30 bags and the life of one his youngest and most loyal man. min had sent around 10 of his own to attack the warehouse and the moment they arrived it was blood everywhere, sicheng not standing a chance. what gets to yuta the most, what makes his blood boil and the wish to put a bullet through yoongi’s forehead is that it wasn’t about drugs anymore, it was about proving something.

the rain starts, calm of first, and then it’s on full rage. the sky painted black in a melancholic way. “did you get any of his men?” yuta asks and this time taeil comes forward, hands behind his back.

“no, boss. but we got the informer.” he says and yuta can feel his eye twitch. the informer. one of his own men betraying him behind his back. it’s one of the things that make his power waver, if he can’t trust his own the who is he going to trust? how is he to know that taeyong won’t point a gun to his head the first change he gets.

“who is it?” he sounds almost bored, wants to think that he’s unbothered by this. he starts loading his gun then, moving with calmness and precision.

“it’s kim woojin, sir.” there’s grief in taeil’s voice.

yuta clocks the gun and stands up. there’s a look on his face that screams tiredness, exhaustion. “take me to him.”

kim woojin was a scrawny little kid when yuta found him selling cheap weed on the back of a public high school. with no family and real friends he had given yuta attitude when he asked what he was doing. in the end he accepted to come with him and trained until he became one of yuta’s best seller. he had the charisma and the talk that had people coming back for more.

when yuta enters the small room he sees the boy he knew for 10 years with a swollen eye and blood dripping from his lips, hands tied up behind the chair. he feels no remorse.

the door slams shut, taeyong and jaehyun coming behind him. the noise makes woojin look up, movements slow from the pain. there’s a mixture of feelings that go through his eyes when he sees yuta. regret, sorrow. but the one that stands the most is fear. it makes yuta smile, that’s what he wants, to be feared. wants people to be terrified of him.

he starts rolling his sleeves up, taking his time. “i-i’m so sorry, boss.” woojin’s voice is pitiful and it pisses him off.

“man, shut the fuck up.” he takes the gun in his hand, aiming it playfully at the man’s head like he would just shoot without getting anything in return. “didn’t feel sorry about sicheng’s dead body, did you?”

woojin whimpers as yuta hits his head with the gun before pressing it tightly to his brow bone. “i didn’t know they would kill him.” he cries out.

“awn, you didn’t?” yuta mocks his voice, pressing the gun even harder. there’s blood still dripping from the man’s mouth. “if you’re so sorry then tell me… where is fucking min yoongi hiding, huh?”

yoongi had been hiding for three weeks now, letting his man do the dirty work as he stayed low and not risking the chance of getting killed. “i-i don’t know.”

the punch that hits woojin’s face is loud, blood splattering across the floor from it. the next one hits even harder and yuta feels his whole body pump with adrenaline and anger. he thinks of sicheng as he grabs the man by the hair, grip tight and gun coming to press at his forehead. “would you rather i use other methods to get you talking?” he asks, poison dripping in his voice “i’m sure you’re very familiar with our torture tools.”

woojin ends up talking. something about an old warehouse and a meeting where they would be getting guns from abroad. he assures them that not many men would be there but that min definitely would. after he finishes talking the pleas for forgiveness start again and yuta patience wears thin. he shoots and watches the body fall limp.

✦

winter always made you sad. you remember years where you would stay in your house for days and feel miserable whole the snow fell outside. there were not many flowers around this time of the year.

this year is not as bad. yuta comes visit as much as he can, with tired eyes and cold hands. tonight he holds you close, warming you up as you lazily draw hearts on his chest. none of you say anything but the silence is comfortable, you enjoy listening to his breathing.  
moving up so you’re facing him you see that the scar he got from the last fight is fading, the cut in his eyebrow not as visible anymore. you touch it with a finger, rubbing softly and it makes him smile. there’s not many feelings that compare to this, having yuta close to you, safe. your heart feels full on your chest with the amount of love you feel for him, flowers blooming in your stomach.

you love his smile, how he has a special one just for you. you love the tattoos that paint his whole body, love how he lets you touch them for hours, getting to know each one. but what you love the most is that yuta is one of the most powerful man you know, could kill someone in a heartbeat, but when he leans down to press his lips to yours it’s gentle, like you’re a delicate thing that needs to be taken care of.

you kiss for hours but he never tries to deepen it like he usually would. it’s like he wants to enjoy the moment, memorize how you feel against him. “baby…” he says when he breaks it, hand moving to your cheeks. you hum, basking on his attention. “you know i will do anything to keep you safe, right?” he uses the word will like it’s something he’ll really have to do.

you nod your head and his eyes look almost pitiful. “i need you to stay with me at a safe house for a couple of days.” after a lot of thinking he thought that would be the best way to keep you safe. yoongi had realized that his drugs and his territory meant nothing to him anymore. his only real weakness was you.

at night when he closes his eyes he sees sicheng’s body in a mess of his own blood, sees taeyong getting shot and falling to the floor. in his dreams he sees you, smiling at him in the way he loves so much, and then there’s a gun to your head. your body falling to the ground, your house burning down. he weeps.

the look on your face is unreadable. “for how long?” you ask.

“two weeks maybe.” your eyebrow furrow. “until this whole mess is over.”

“i-i… are you asking me to leave my flowers?” it’s silly but it’s how you feel. you don’t want to be away from the only thing that has made you happy before he came along.

“there’s no other optio-“ he starts saying but you interrupt him, moving away from his embrace.

“if i say no then you’ll just kidnap me and hide me in the middle of nowhere?” you’re not being rational, acting almost childish like your life is not the thing at stake here.

“yes, i said i will do anything to keep you safe.” is his reply “but i would rather that you came willingly.”

✦

the safehouse is somewhere far from tokyo, and old thing that seems like it hasn’t had a soul step foot there for ages. you feel out of place and claustrophobic inside. “just for a couple days.” yuta assures you as soon as you step out of the car, four of his closest men with you.

taeyong is the one that gets closer to you, accompanying you for breakfast and during your daily sun baths. you wonder if he’s doing this under orders or out of pity. either way, you enjoy the company.

“how did you get into this whole thing?” you ask one day when you’re both sitting on the porch outside.

he seems unbothered by the subject, picking on his nails as the sun illuminates his face. he looks young without the usual suit and harsh expressions, they all do. “like yuta, i didn’t have much of a choice. it’s a family business.”

“didn’t you ever want to get out of it?” he looks at you and gives a tired smile. you have asked the same questions to yuta before and you don’t expect taeyong’s answers to be far from them.

“it’s a hard thing to get away from. death chases you and money is too addicting.” he says “but sometimes when i look at people being able to walk around not fearing for their lives i get jealous.”

you nod, feeling bad for him. “maybe one day you will.”

“some scars are too deep to heal, ____. and some things are too hard to escape.”

the days pass in a blur of empty walls and no color. you read, play cards with taeyong and get acquainted with the three rottweilers that guard the place. yuta had warned you about them when you arrived but they were puppies whenever you came around, tails wagging and bellies in the air.

some nights yuta only comes back when you’re already fast asleep, or pretending to be. too upset to even face him properly, the man that’s doing everything for your life. other nights he tries to kiss your sadness away. he brings you a bouquet of violets one day, making you feel warm inside. noticing your smile because of it he keeps bringing them until the entire place is filled with petals. an image of his loyalty and devotion to you.

you think of what taeyong said all the time. try to imagine your life with yuta in a few years from now and all you can picture is yourself living in fear of losing the person you love. maybe it would be better if you walked away, left to live a normal life but there’s no way you could that. you’re into it too, the scar is already too deep. way beyond retaliation.

it ends two weeks and five days after your arrival. taeyong has put a bullet on yoongi’s chest and taeil wakes you up at four am to tell you can leave at any time you wish. you get up immediately, gather your things and tell goodbye to the dogs.

when you see tokyo’s lights is like a weight has left your shoulders.

when you ask about yuta the man tells you it’s better if you wait until the next day to see him but you have none of it, acting like a crazy woman until the only thing he can do is give in and take you to him.

there’s not a lot of things you expected to see him but him all beaten up and doped from anesthesia is one of them. you let out a choked cry and taeyong turns to see your body entering the room with pity in his eyes. “what is she doing here?” his question is directed to taeil who just shrugs.

“she was going to murder me if i didn’t bring her to him.” he says and it’s true.

“what happened?” you question, moving closer to him, hand moving to his swollen cheek as you take a closer look to the wound right on the head of his tattooed koi fish. how terrible it is to love something that death can touch, you think to yourself.

“things got a little out of control and he got shot.” is jaehyun’s simple reply. he won’t give you any details, there’s no reason for that.

hours and hours passes before he finally wakes up. groggy and with a silly smile on his face when he sees your tired figure sitting on a chair beside his bed. “did i die and an angel came to pick me up?” he whispers to you.

“shut up, nakamoto.” is your angry reply. he knows you’re not really angry, just worried about him. “if you had died you would go straight to hell for breaking my heart.”

he has the nerve to pout, hand weakly moving to your cheek in a sweet motion. “i would never do that, my love.”

you want to cry when he asks for you to kiss him. want to cry when he says he thought of you when he fell to the ground. “my own personal heaven.” he says against your lips as your tears fall freely “i would love you even if i was buried in the deepest parts of hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! you can support me on ko-fi.com/moondustis and request a fic there :)   
> i'm also on tumblr @ moondustis.tumblr.com


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